Mind Games
by Mikha
Summary: In the darkness of the night, a presence invades Nasuada's mind. Is she to fight it or allow it to take control? *SPOILERS FOR INHERITANCE*
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon, the Inheritance Cycle, nor its characters! They all belong to Christopher Paolini. I just write fanfiction Enjoy, and R&R!

How hard is it to present an image of yourself which you can respect? What when, deep down, you are hiding a sorrow so great it threatens to burst each time your thoughts stray to the object of your longing? How hard is it to stand tall and strong and proud in the face of enemies, when inside you are tired and wish for nothing else but delivery from it all?

_It__is__hard_, she thought,_but__it__must__be__done._

Day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year. Every day, Nasuada had to show a strong side to those considered her subordinates. She was in a position of power, one which commanded and demanded respect, but one which could only be kept if she played her part as a strong and fair ruler. The world is an unforgiving place, and showing weakness would definitely put her in jeopardy. No, each morning she had to stand before the mirror, look herself in the eyes, and reassure herself that she was capable of doing it. She was capable of being Queen of Alagaësia, and she was prepared to affront whatever dangers came her way.

_It__is__my__duty,__and__I__cannot__fail._

After repeating that phrase to herself a few times, she would consider herself to be ready to face her day. She would leave her chambers, already dressed to impress, and with her most business-like expression. She would greet her guards, stationed outside her door every night, and they would follow her to her office, where Jörmundur would be waiting for her to go over the day's tasks and any important decision making. He was her rock, her unfailing rock. He was, perhaps, the person closest to her who understood the burdens of ruling, for he had accompanied her for a number of years, and her father before it. Unlike her guard, Jörmundur walked beside her, as they shared a mutual respect for one another.

Their evident closeness had raised a few eyebrows at the beginning of her reign, and some speculation went about as to whether he would become her consort. Soon, however, those rumours died out, when Nasuada made it particularly evident that Jörmundur was a married man, with a family of his own. After that, other potential candidates were discussed among the people, with Eragon figuring prominently. The most cynical ones, even suggested the possibility of an Urgal or Kull as the future consort, but with time, such rumours were abandoned, especially as Nasuada showed no inclination to marry.

_If__they__only__knew__…_

No, whatever else, she kept the object of her affections a secret. How long had it been already? Three, four years? Four, of course it had been four. Four long years since she had ascended to the throne of Alagaësia, and not once since had she seen or heard from Murtagh. Not a whisper, nothing. And whatever she told herself, that it had been too long, that she should know better, that she should forget… the bond they had formed in the Hall of the Soothsayer was too strong to break.

She therefore consoled herself thinking that perhaps, for him, it was just as hard as for her, but he needed to stay away, and that she understood. He couldn't just waltz into Ilirea like a normal person. Despite Nasuada's best efforts to clean his name, there were still some who could not, and would not forget what he had done under Galbatorix's command. He had killed too many, he had hurt too many. He had been weak and let himself be overcome.

But that had changed. He had changed, and in changing, he had changed her. She had been almost broken by Galbatorix. He had been too close to succeeding, but Murtagh had brought her back each time. He had healed her, and he had protected her.

_He__saved__more__than__just__my__life.__He__saved__my__mind,__and__he__kept__me__sane._

And if the days were hard, the nights were harder. The silence of the night was almost unbearable to her. It seemed that she lived for the noise, even the faintest one that would make the illusion that she was not alone. This, of course, was contrary to reality. She felt alone, surrounded by many, but alone.

Her responsibilities kept her busy during the day, but at night, as she lay or paced or sat in her chambers, the stark reality of the situation always hit her hardest. Despite the guards stationed outside her door, who followed her around wherever she went, despite the friendship of those close to her, and the letters from those far away, the gap in her heart was wide, and it was deep.

Too deep perhaps to comprehend, or even to explain, but it was very real. Too real to ignore.

One thing that also saddened her was that, while she was completely alone, Murtagh at least had Thorn who understood him like no one else. It was sad but comforting, for while she wished she had someone like that, she was happy he did not have to live alone in his head, that he had a companion who understood him.

How many nights had she sat and pondered about this? How many? Almost every single one, unless she had been too exhausted from the day's proceedings. Each night though, however tired she was, there was at least one yearning thought directed at Murtagh. One call in the night out to him, wishing him back.

_Tomorrow__will__be__another__day__…_

A faint touch to her consciousness made her stir. What was going on? Her defenses were up at once, and she hugged herself arms and legs to gather strength. Who could be foolish enough to attempt an attack on her mind? Du Vrangr Gata would detect this, and her magicians would be battling and destroying this intruder in no time. Elva would be running through the door any second now…

… any second now…

But the touch was not hostile, and it was brief.

She remained holding her blankets close to her, at attention in case it came back. Part of her wanted it to come back to battle it furiously, if only to end the monotony and quiet of the night, but it didn't. It was quiet all around her, and the attacker did not return.

The experience itself had been scary, and Nasuada didn't know what to make of it exactly. Should she consult with somebody about it? Tell Trianna? Part of her told her she probably should, but another said no. There was no need to get anyone else involved in all this, was there?

_I__am__fine.__And__I__don__'__t__need__to__be__babied._

But the feeling something was not quite right did not leave her, so she quickly got up and drafted a letter a letter to Eragon, asking for advice. When she was done, she reread the letter, and laughed at herself, tearing it to pieces.

_I__sound__like__a__scared__child._

Sighing, she went back to bed, but sleep would not come easily. Someone out there was trying to penetrate her mind. With what intentions, she knew not, but she did not much care to find out if they were bad.

_Just__another__night__in__the__life__of__Nasuada._


	2. Chapter 2

Hey everyone! Sorry about the messed up italics in the previous chapter! I didn't realise that happened, so in this chapter, I'm putting thoughts with one inverted comma 'as such' so that it doesn't jumble up for anybody!

Thanks for reading and for the reviews so far. Every comment is constructive and appreciated!

The visit two mornings later was unexpected. Nasuada had been hardly ready to leave her room, when there was a knock on her door. Not entirely sure who could be there, as people usually were not allowed in her chamber, Nasuada made for the door, stopping just outside of it. A feeling of doubt surrounded her all of a sudden.

"Who is it?" she asked, and her voice trembled just a little bit.

"Jörmundur, Your Majesty."

'That's strange,' she thought. 'He never comes to my chambers. Something must be off and I have to deal with it.'

Putting on her most businesslike face, she opened the door and invited in her second in command. He stood tall and proud as always, and carried himself in a way that commanded respect, a respect they mutually shared for each other. In time, though, that respect had grown into something more, and they had a strong bond of friendship.

"What is it?" she asked, ready for action. "Something happened during the night? Do we need to defend a city?"

"No, my lady, not really."

"Then? Are we running short of supplies for the winter? Do we need to encourage more planting?"

"No, my lady, nothing of the sort."

"Then, what is it?" Confused as to what could bring him to her rooms so early in the morning, that didn't have to do with defense and food, she studied him closely. He seemed serious and somewhat out of place, as if he had something very unpleasant to say, but could not find the right words to do so. "Pray, speak, Jörmundur. You are worrying me."

"You are worrying me, Nasuada."

Her name hit her like a rock. It had been a while since he had not addressed her by her given name. He usually used an honorific, and addressed her as his queen. Today, however, he was looking at her much like her father used to, with concern etched into the lines of his face.

"What do you mean?" she asked. Had she been so transparent in her worrying about the mind attack? Had he somehow found out about it? Perhaps Du Vrangr Gata had sensed it, or Elva, and they had gone and told him about it. "If this is about…"

"Yesterday," he said. "This is about yesterday."

They looked at each other, she with a defiant look on her face.

"I do not mean to, and will not ask what happened, as it is not my place to do so, but I will tell you this: It does not do to dwell on things of the past, on things we cannot have. Your responsibilities do not allow you to express the weakness you showed yesterday."

"I beg your pardon…?" she asked, outraged.

"You can act all self-righteous if you want, Nasuada, but I know what I saw. You were distracted, and seemed almost miserable, and that is not you. The Nasuada I know faces each day with courage, and whatever comes her way is worthy of attention. Yesterday, however, you were absent-minded, and failed to realise the important things in front of you. You failed to make an important decision, and you cannot allow yourself to do that, lest you ruin all the hard work you have achieved through the years."

"I do not know what you're talking about."

"Of course you do, and it does not become you to lie to me like that. Whatever it is, you must get over it and be the person you truly are."

"What can you possibly know about…"

"I don't need to," Jörmundur towered above her. "And you need to get a grip."

Nasuada stared at the floor in anger, but finally she nodded. She knew Jörmundur was right, and that she had to get a grip, or else the situation could get out of control. She was queen of Alagaësia, and could not afford to dwell on the past. No, it was time she really stopped pining after so long. Murtagh was gone, and he was not coming back.

"You are right," she finally said, looking straight at him. Her fists clenched, and she took a deep breath. "It won't happen again."

"I hope so."

With a nod of his head, Jörmundur headed back to the door. "I shall be waiting in your office as usual for the report."

"Very well. I'll be there shortly." He opened the door. "And Jörmundur?"

"Yes, my lady?"

"Thank you."

And that day was a lot easier, for she had found her strength again. She was able to see past her own weakness and realise that her attention was better used elsewhere. During that early morning report, she passed three resolutions to improve the life of her people, assured the abundance of resources for the fast-approaching winter, and received the representatives from various large cities in the land. She listened to them attentively, and offered advice when asked for it, while also listening to ideas they proposed.

Yes, that was exactly what being a ruler meant, interacting with her subjects and find ways to bring the land forward. It was a selfless job that required sacrifice, sweat and tears, and did not allow for weakness.

In the afternoon she received a most-awaited letter from Eragon. In it, he told her of the progress the newest Riders were making, and what an adventure it was to be training them. All the talk of Riders made Nasuada feel sentimental again, but she quickly kicked herself mentally, knowing it would not do. Murtagh was independent of these Riders, independent of the world. Wherever he was, she wished him to be okay, but there were more pressing matters at the moment.

Orik had written as well, a continuation of an ongoing debate about access to the Beor Mountains. It was a matter that took a great amount of diplomacy and negotiating, as the mountains were plentiful on resources, and both humans and dwarves needed them to subsist. That occupied most of her afternoon and a good part of her evening, so that when she finally sat down to study the fortifications of Teirm, something she should have done the previous week, the moon had already risen above the trees.

"It's good to see you back in top form," Jörmundur said as they called it a night. He put a hand on her shoulder, and then left.

'Yes,' she thought. 'It's good to be back.'

The first contact was like a caress that lulled her to continue sleeping, but Nasuada was now wide awake. The same mind as two nights ago was making contact with hers, now more prominently and evident. Still, no Du Vrangr Gata, no Elva… Whoever this was, they were well disguised, and only she could fell it. Her barriers were up at once, and she repeated her mantra time and again, time and again, emptying her mind of anything relevant, or anything that made sense at all.

And still, the presence would not leave. As she wasn't concentrating on it, but on her mantra, she could not know if it was telling her something. What she could feel, was an intense heat that seemed to reach a particularly high point, and caused her to tighten the barriers around her mind, now even saying her mantra out loud. Whoever this was, they were fighting to gain access, but she would not allow it.

She fought the presence until the heat seemed to simmer in itself and slowly withdrew. She sighed with relief as she drifted to sleep. Her last thought was about the burning presence she had felt, and how she'd be ready to fight it next time it appeared.

'If it ever dares to again…'


	3. Chapter 3

New chapter! So who exactly is trying to break her mind? R&R and thanks for those so far!

The next morning, Nasuada was out earlier than usual, heading straight for Elva's room. She found the girl still sleeping, but she woke her anyways. Their conversation was a pressing one, and she wanted to know, she needed to know, why she had failed to alert her to the danger that afflicted her at night. It was a matter of principle.

"Elva," she said, her voice firm. "I need to speak to you."

The girl slowly opened her eyes, and one look at Nasuada told her everything she needed to know. Sitting up straight, she observed her for a moment longer, while Nasuada looked back at her.

"You are worried," Elva said.

"Yes, I am. Have you sensed anything? An attack? An intruder? Anything?"

"You know well my powers don't work like that," Elva looked out of the window distractedly, which Nasuada found somewhat upsetting. Despite their long years together, she still found Elva too bizarre and detached of everything. Of course, she knew that Elva remained with her just for convenience and comfort. Out there, she was an oddity and people avoided her. In there, she was useful and taken care of. If only she'd give a straight answer now and again! "And the answer is no."

"No?" That confused Nasuada. How could she not?

"No. The only thing I've felt from you the past few months is sadness over… well, you know over what." And the fact that Elva was privy to that fact also disturbed Nasuada. "And the past couple of days, there has been some worry. Other than that… nothing really. I can sense no misfortune in your immediate future."

"And you are sure about this?"

Elva looked at her almost disinterestedly. "Yes, of course. Now, if that is all…"

Defiant. That was the only way to describe Elva that Nasuada could find.

Next she went in search of Trianna. Even if Elva hadn't been able to feel anything, surely she should strengthen her barriers. It was in moments like these that she wished she had Eragon or even Arya close by. They would be able to offer advice and help her find a solution. As sure of herself as Nasuada felt at the moment, she knew that even though she had been somewhat able to resist Galbatorix, she was not infallible. It would be unwise to presume so.

She found her magician performing her morning ablutions, but she was received much more cordially by Trianna than by Elva. Of this, she was not surprised. It had taken time, but she had also earned the respect and trust of Du Vrangr Gata to the same level her father had. It had been tense at first, but they had come a long way. In the absence of Eragon, the human magician she'd trust the most would be Trianna.

'You would trust Murtagh,' a voice inside told her, but she quickly dismissed it. 'He is not here.'

"My lady," Trianna said, drying her hands quickly and bowing to her. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I need a favour."

"Of course, my lady. What is it you need?"

"This information is between you and I, okay?" At Trianna's nod, Nasuada went on. "Someone has been trying to enter my mind."

"What?" Trianna was outraged. "Who would dare attempt such a thing?"

"I do not know. Elva did not feel anything. By your reaction, I take it you did not detect anything either?"

"Not at all. If someone had been trying to enter your mind, we would have noticed, but I've had no reports on the matter."

"I see."

"How do you wish we proceed?"

Nasuada thought about it for a while, although deep down she knew the course of action they needed to take. She nodded once, then spoke: "I need you to help me strengthen my defenses, and to keep a particularly keen eye on what's going on. This mind has made contact twice already."

"Twice? Was it very faint? I really don't understand how we could have missed it."

"It was faint at first, but the second time it took me a lot of power to keep it at bay."

"I understand. I will consult my books for the most appropriate way, and I will let you know."

"Thank you." She saw Trianna hesitating, so she stayed put. "What is it, Trianna?"

"Shouldn't you contact Eragon Shadeslayer?" she asked. "He might have some ideas as well. When it comes to protecting you, we cannot take chances."

"That's exactly why I cannot contact him, Trianna. If the letter were to go astray, I'd be left even more vulnerable, for someone out there would know of my weakness, and we cannot allow that. Keeping magicians in check is hard enough as it is. What if they gang up on us? No. Unless it's absolutely necessary, I will not be contacting Eragon."

"Very well, my lady. I'll get to work at once."

And so, Nasuada left Trianna's room more reassured. Surely, between the two of them, they could find a solution to the problem. For now, however, Alagaësia took priority over her own mind.

That night she stayed awake for a while. Trianna had suggested changing her sleeping pattern, so that if the attacker returned, he would not catch her asleep, but awake and alert. Then she could signal Trianna and they could figure out what it was. And so she waited for the presence to make an appearance, and the clock ticked eleven, then midnight, then one… and nothing.

Her eyes were closing on their own accord close to two in the morning, and that was when she felt the presence again. It was as overwhelming as the previous night, with the heat emanating from it enveloping her as she chanted her mantra again and again to keep the presence at bay. Not thinking much about it, she reached for a bell in her night stand, and was about to ring it, when a stray idea touched her mind…

The presence was hot and powerful… like a dragon…

'Could it be…?'

Again with the mantra, she slapped herself to get a grip. Thinking unnecessary things could give her attacker something to hold on to and penetrate her mind. And so, for the remainder of the attack, which was as subtle as it had been the night before, she avoided thinking about anything. When it finally subsided, she finally allowed herself to consider the possibilities.

'Thorn,' she thought. Which other dragon could it be? She knew Saphira and Firnen very well, and the newly hatched dragons were all in training with Eragon, so it couldn't be any one of them. This presence felt different to anything she knew, so her gut instinct told her that it could indeed be Thorn.

Could Murtagh be trying to contact her?

That was the hope she held.

But then, why wouldn't he contact her directly? She knew his mind, and he knew she would not be putting up barriers against him. Why send Thorn instead? Why risk causing her anger, when all he needed to do was reach out with his mind?


	4. Chapter 4

The next day was more difficult. As much as she tried to convince herself that Murtagh would not be contacting her through Thorn, she could not shake the feeling that it was him who was trying to enter her mind. Her reasoning was quite straight forward. For one, the presence was just overwhelming, and while she protected herself so as not to allow it entry, it never really tried to penetrate deeply within her. It was just… there. Then, Elva never sensed any danger, so whatever the presence was trying to do, it was not offensive and would not cause her sorrow.

'Surely an enemy would cause me sorrow,' she told herself.

No, it had to be Thorn. Who else would have such a boiling presence, if not a dragon?

And while the thought comforted her, it also made her sad to think that Murtagh was not the one contacting her. Thorn's presence in her mind brought it forward, once more, the fact that she felt so alone and helpless. She kept hearing Jörmundur's voice in her head, telling her she needed to concentrate on the matters at hand, rather than worrying about things she couldn't have or change. Murtagh was one of them.

But how was she to feel better when… every night, the burning fires of Thorn scalded her mind? How was she to stay put, when the object of her desire was so near? No, she had to find a way to communicate with Thorn, find out if Murtagh was okay, and why he wasn't the one talking to her. And she had to do it without alerting anyone to the possibility.

'I shouldn't have told Trianna,' she thought. But immediately after she slapped herself mentally. It would be foolish not to take precautions, so telling her had been the right choice. In case the presence was hostile, it was good to have Trianna nearby, but until it proved to be so, intervention was not necessary.

And so, when she met her magicians that morning and Trianna gave her a knowing look, Nasuada dismissed it with one of her own, hoping that Trianna would understand that there had been nothing to worry about. Of course, once everyone had left the office, including Jörmundur, the magician stayed behind.

"My lady," she said.

"Did you feel anything last night?" Nasuada asked.

"I can't be sure, why? Did you? I did not hear the bell ringing."

"No. The attempt was too brief," she knew she was lying, but in telling Trianna that much, she ensured she would still be on the lookout, should things turn sour. "By the time I had reached for the bell, the presence was gone. I suppose the barriers we put up are working."

Trianna eyed her suspiciously.

"And did you use the new mantra I taught you?" she asked.

"Yes, I did. I kept repeating it for a while after the presence was gone, in case it tried to come back."

"Good. It should protect you. It has no meaning to it other than distracting you, much like the old man's tale you used to recite before."

"'Lost in clouds of gray and silver,'" Nasuada said, closing her eyes, "'I twirled and twirled until it dwindled. How wonderful colours my eyes can see. How wonderful, and there is no one but me.'"

"Keep telling it to yourself, and you should be fine."

"Yes, thank you, Trianna."

'How wonderful, and there is no one but me.' She shook her head against her pillow. She had been repeating that phrase over and over for about an hour after feeling just one pinch of the strange presence. Only that, and nothing more, no other attempt, just that brief moment of heat, much like the first time she had felt it a few nights ago. 'What is he playing at?' She allowed herself to think at last. 'Why tease me in such a way that I cannot grasp his true identity? Why, Murtagh? Why, Thorn? Wh… Lost in clouds of gray and silver, I twirled and twirled until it dwindled. How wonderful colours my eyes can see. How wonderful, and there is no one but me. Lost in clouds of gray and silver, I twirled and twirled until it dwindled, How wonderful colours my eyes can see. How wonderful, and there is no one but me..."

The heat had hit her like a rock, breaking through her stream of thought, battling its way in, not violently but forcefully. Nasuada squeezed her eyes shut, repeating her mantra over and over, until the presence was gone again.

'… How wonderful colours my eyes can see. How wonderful, and there is no one but me…'

When enough time had passed, Nasuada lay there with thick tears streaming down her eyes. How cruel it seemed. The mantra that was supposed to protect her, free her mind of stray thoughts, was actually rubbing in the fact that she felt so alone, the fact that Murtagh was not connecting with her.

'Thorn!' she screamed with her mind.

But only silence and cold surrounded her.

The morning after that, she felt drained and somewhat paranoid. That her heart wasn't into what she was doing was evident, more so, when Jörmundur gave her a meaningful look. He knew something was not alright, and even Elva was eyeing her warily. Although, to be honest, Nasuada was looking warily at Elva as well. Something was off with the girl, and Nasuada couldn't quite put her finger on it. Usually the girl scowled at everyone, and looked rather sickly when too much sorrow surrounded her, but that morning she looked, if anything, overtired. She had dark spots under her eyes and looked even paler than usual. She hadn't looked quite as bad the last time Nasuada had seen her.

As Elva walked to the balcony to get some air, Nasuada followed her, standing next to her and leaning her elbows on the railing. She looked at Iliera, rising before her, and the people who worked and did their best to make a good living. Alagaësia was full of honest people who, given the chance, wanted to live in peace. And peace she had achieved in those years.

"You don't look too well," Nasuada said after a while. "Are you ill?"

"I cannot say," Elva replied, her voice dull. "While I can sense misfortune in others, I cannot when it comes to myself."

"I see."

"But do not worry, I can still sense if something is wrong. And I can tell there is something really eating away at you. Let it go, it will only make you suffer more."

Nasuada eyed her, and wondered if Elva was aware of what was going on. Could she tell exactly what was making Nasuada worry?

"Being alone and feeling alone are two different things. I understand that. Like you, I am surrounded by people, but I am alone. The difference is, perhaps, that I am used to it, whereas you wish for something more, something you cannot have. And that is what's making you miserable."

"You do know a lot more than you should."

"It is my curse, and I bear it. Your curse is to be queen, and you have borne it quite well. Continue to do so."

They looked at each other, until Elva lowered her gaze.

"Now, if you excuse me, I need to lie down."

Notes:

So what's wrong with Elva?


	5. Chapter 5

The next few nights, Nasuada did not go to bed early. Elva's words had got to her, and she sat there pondering them. What should she do? She knew that part of her was allowing this strange, Thorn-like presence to enter her mind, if only to feel it close her, despite the fact that she fought it like the plague.

But the presence still wasn't hurting her. It had visited her every night, sometimes staying for long periods of time, sometimes just a few seconds. Her mantra had kept her from thinking too much, although the last phrase still made her sad, and sometimes she allowed herself just a tiny fraction of thought relating to Murtagh.

As much as she wanted to open up completely and let Thorn in, Elva's condition was worrying. Since their talk, Nasuada had hardly seen her, and that very day, when she had gone looking for the girl, she had found her lying in bed running a very high fever. She had called on Trianna to have a look, and entrusted her with healing Elva.

If Elva was not feeling her best, the probabilities that she would not detect an attack her high, too high to even consider. But the truth was that Nasuada was growing tired of playing this mind game, and wanted a resolution to it as soon as possible. Pining over the possible presence of Thorn was once again clouding her judgement, and she was fairly sure that the mantra just wasn't help her overcome her sadness, but increase it without meaning to. Jörmundur had also approached her once more, clearly displeased with her behaviour.

She knew he was right. She knew she was not fulfilling her duties as she should because of the constant distraction that this presence caused. And so, that night she had come to a decision which, reckless as it was, presented the only solution she could think of.

And so she sat in front of her mirror, waiting for the moment when the presence would return. She felt ready, more ready than she had felt since the first time she felt it. Her gut told her it would be soon, and her gut rarely betrayed her.

'He'll be here,' she told herself. 'Soon.'

And as if summoned, the presence tentatively touched her mind.

She smiled at her reflection. And while her barriers were in place, she said: 'Thorn,' opening her mind just enough to let the thought escape.

The heat hat answered her was almost too hot to bear, but inside she felt the response reverberating. 'Yes…'

'Thorn?' She could not believe it. 'Has it been you who has been coming time and again over the past few weeks?'

'Yes…'

'And why you? Why not Murtagh?'

'Too dangerous…'

His voice seemed distant in proportion to the heat he emanated, but she felt comfortable there. So comfortable, in fact, that she could see herself smiling in the mirror, and could feel her barriers slowly easing.

'Is he with you?' she dared ask.

'Yes…'

'Murtagh?' She waited, anticipating to feel his so familiar presence, but for a moment, all she could feel was the breathing of the dragon, and could almost imagine puffs of smoke coming from his nostrils. 'Murtagh…'

She then sensed humming, similar to what Saphira did, but not quite. She mused that perhaps male dragons weren't accustomed to humming, and that was why it felt strange. At any rate, it relaxed her. Murtagh was close, Murtagh was very close. Soon they would be…

'What the…?'

Her eyes shot open in alarm as she felt a painful incursion into her mind. Not two seconds later, Elva had burst through her door, looking worst than ever, and almost being sick there and then. Her guard had busted in after Elva, all looking horrified. Nasuada could do nothing to free herself from Thorn's mind, which seemed now intent on consuming her whole. It burned, and not in a good way, and seeing Elva there she realized that she had been foolish, and put herself in a danger she could not overcome by herself.

"No!" she heard Elva scream, but she herself could not move, could not speak, not even close her eyes. She sat there rigidly, staring at herself with no other choice, as the battle within her mind raged, as she was slowly being consumed.

And it hurt, it hurt so much that she couldn't even feel when Elva slapped her as hard as she could (which, in her state of weakness, wasn't much). She did hear as the girl screamed for help, again and again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jörmundur, and then felt him shaking her, but none of them understood, the battle was not of her body, and nothing they did to it could stop it.

"Where is Trianna?" she heard Jörmundur call, and then hurried steps from her guards.

She felt her eyes water as her barriers began to crumble around her, and the searing presence enter deeper into her consciousness. She was lost. She was lost for good. Galbatorix had tried to break her, but Murtagh had been there to protect her, and back then she had had no weakness that could be exploited, unlike now. Her own desire for Murtagh had been her undoing.

Whoever had attacked her, had chosen their bait well. Too well.

'Murtagh…'

His name was the only coherent thought she could form in those last moments of consciousness she knew she had. It was all lost now. Her mantra had been right, there was no one else but her… There was no one else.

The last she would see was Jörmundur's concerned face, and the last thing she would hear were his calls for Trianna, and Elva's screams as she could feel almost the same as her. Poor girl… Poor El…

If possible, her eyes widened once more as she felt an even more powerful presence entering her mind. Someone else had joined the attack, as if they needed that… as if… In a few seconds, the new presence had proved to her that what her enemy called heat could be no more than discarded ashes. This new presence was hot like lava, burning like the sun, and it was angry.

Her barriers in tatters, she clearly heard its thoughts, and braced herself for the annihilation of her mind.

Only that, when the presence unleashed its fury, it was not directed at her, but at her original invader.

'Who are you to use my name as your own?' The heat increased to a point where Nasuada could no longer bear it, and as she fainted, she could hear a raw cry somewhere nearby.

Then it all went black.


	6. Chapter 6

"Is she dead?" Jörmundur asked, lifting Elva from the floor, where she had collapsed after being sick. Placing her on a chair, he then moved over to Nasuada, who lay on the floor, unmoving. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open, and her body was limp. "My lady!"

There was no reaction from Nasuada, and Jörmundur could feel the eyes of the six guards on them. He feared that, if he didn't get the situation under control, and fast, rumours could start spreading about Nasuada's fate. Whatever that fate was.

"She's not dead," Elva said, coughing. Really, she looked almost green, and very weak. "I cannot say that she'll be okay, but she is not dead."

Jörmundur nodded, and clenched his fists. At once he turned to the guards, and fixed his stern eyes on them. As if afraid, they all took a step back by reflex.

"What you have seen today does NOT leave this room, understood?"

"Yes, sir!" They all said.

"I do not need to tell you what will happen if you disobey me, do I?"

"No, sir, no!"

"Good, now…"

"Find Trianna," Elva said.

"Why Trianna?" Jörmundur asked. "We need to find whoever screamed, and make sure they don't talk."

"That's why you have to find Trianna. And… bring her here…"

"Sir?" one of the guards asked.

"Do as she says," Jörmundur said. When the guards had retreated, and only he and Elva remained in the room with Nasuada, he turned to the girl gravely. "What happened?"

"I'm not too sure," Elva said. "A powerful mind invaded hers, and it was hurting her."

"Did they get her?"

"I'm not sure! I just know that something else showed up… and… I don't know."

Jörmundur put Nasuada on the bed and then paced the room. Back and forth, back and forth. Elva only followed him with her eyes, and remained quiet the whole time. The minutes ticked by while they waited for the guards to return. They took their time, and when they finally appeared, Elva had curled into a ball on the chair, rocking slowly in place. She was sweating her fever, and looked ready to pass out.

Trianna herself was unconscious as the guards carried her in. There was blood coming from her left ear, and there was a pallor about her under the sheen of perspiration. Elva looked up as they placed Trianna on the floor, and shook her head.

"She's beyond saving," she said.

"Nasuada or Trianna?" Jörmundur asked.

"Trianna… her mind has been destroyed."

"Why?" One of the guards asked. "Do you think she was trying to protect our queen and in backfired?"

"No. I think she was the one hurting her."

Elva's statement hit everyone like a rock, and Jörmundur looked positively furious. In two long strides he was standing in front of the girl, towering above her, with his eyes set on her.

"How dare you even suggest that? Trianna was loyal to Nasuada!"

"That may be true, but Trianna was no longer herself."

"What do you mean?"

"As I said, I'm not sure. All I can tell you is that the presence that ended the attack was not responsible for her demise."

"You mean to say that somebody else intervened? It was not Trianna?"

"That's exactly it."

"But why won't she wake up? Why won't she open her eyes? Were we too late?"

Elva said nothing more, and eventually excused herself and left to her room. She felt too ill to do anything, and really, there was nothing she could do.

"If she wakes up, let me know."

Being dead was surely pleasant. Nasuada couldn't see, and all was dark around her. She almost expected it to be cold, too, but instead, she felt warmed up from the inside out. It was as if a flame kept her safe, a flame that did not consume her, but kept her comfortable in an otherwise desolate and miserable place.

Although she could not discern much, of one thing she was sure. This was the presence that had intervened in her last moments. This was the presence that had eased her pain in that instant before she had died. Surely it was some higher power that watched over her that had delivered her. Yes, it was something good, something hot and comforting.

She felt so at ease with it, that she wondered if it could fulfill her wishes. Surely it could. Surely it would allow her to feel him one last time, before she moved in.

'Murtagh…' she whispered with her mind. 'Murtagh…'

In a fluid motion, the hot presence withdrew, giving way to a more overwhelming, and yet strangely familiar presence, and in her heart she knew that this was indeed Murtagh, that her dying wish was being fulfilled. She sighed internally, feeling the embrace of this mind that was Murtagh's, embracing her mind, her whole being. It made her happy by just… being there. It was an intimate embrace devoid of words, much more intimate than even what they had shared while she had been trapped by Galbatorix. Perhaps when the gods allowed you one last chance to feel your loved ones, there was nothing but peace.

And Murtagh, to her, was peace.

How long he remained with her, she could not tell, but when she felt him retreat, and she knew it was time to say goodbye. How unfair it was, that she had not lived to see him again. How unfair that it had ended so quickly.

But she was ready.

She started feeling a pull, and knew she was a goner.

'Open your eyes,' she heard him say, and as she did, a very bright light blinded her, and she felt him no more.

Notes: Ohhh! What's going on? I promise chapter 7 will be the last one Thank you so much for reading and for all the reviews! :D!


	7. Chapter 7

The light disconcerted her. It was so bring and hit her eyes at an uncomfortable angle, so that she couldn't see anything at all. She squinted her eyes to try and distinguish something, and slowly she could make out silhouettes around her. They moved in what seemed an agitated manner, but she could not quite understand what they were saying.

Squeezing her eyes shut again, she concentrated on their voices, and then she began to understand. Someone was calling her name. It was a voice she knew, but couldn't quite place it. It spoke urgently, but Nasuada also noticed a hint of relief in it… who was this man? Who was this…?

"My lady! Can you hear me? Are you alright?" he kept asking. "Oh, please, say something!"

"Jörmundur…" she recognized him at last. "What…?"

"Are you feeling alright?" The big man actually took her hand in his, a gesture he had never done, but which showed Nasuada just how worried he had been. "Are you in pain at all?"

"No… I'm alright, I think. Just… exhausted."

"You slept for a very long time."

"Did I?"

"Three days."

"Three days?" she sat up quickly, then lied back down as dizziness hit her. "Ow..." Taking deep breaths, she looked at Jörmundur again. "What happened? I thought… I thought I'd died."

"We thought so, too." Jörmundur helped her sit up. "Elva told us something had penetrated your mind so deeply that you had lost control. And then something else had come to fight it off for you. Does that sound right?"

"It does…" she looked down, feeling guilty.

"What I don't understand, is how it happened. Not exactly, at least. You are a strong woman, and your mind is well protected. This shouldn't have happened."

"It was my own fault…" She looked at him, expecting to see disbelief or outrage, but Jörmundur remained as impassive as ever. "I let it happen."

"Why?" he asked, calmly.

"I thought… I thought the presence was someone I knew. I thought…" She was angry with herself, now that she knew she had been fooled, she felt horrible. She had been weak and naïve, and she had almost paid dearly for it. Hadn't it been for… whoever had saved her… could it really have been Thorn? Did she really feel… "Murtagh…"

"He was here."

"What?" she sat up straight, looking at him now with fire in her eyes. "When?"

"A day after it happened."

"He was here…? Tell me everything, Jörmundur…! Tell me, please!"

"It was a bit sudden…"

x-x-x-x

"No change?" Elva had asked one day after Nasuada had collapsed. She herself was looking better, although her skin retained some of the clammy appearance it had held for the past few days.

"None," Jörmundur had replied. "I don't know what to do. I'm not even sure whether I should say something… She seems fine, physically, but she won't wake up. I don't understand… even Trianna has woken up, although she cannot put two words together that make sense…"

"I cannot sense any grief from her, though, so I don't know what's going on either. Maybe she'll wake up?"

"I hope so. All I've done is write to Queen Arya, asking for advice, but that letter will take a while."

"I suppose it will."

They had kept the attack a secret from everyone, and even had commanded the new guard shift to remain outside, as Nasuada was not feeling well. Jörmundur had kept appearances, and Elva had helped in any way she could (and as much as her own illness allowed her). It was important to keep the impression that things were okay, to avoid any potential unrest in Alagaësia, and to avoid word leaking out to King Orrin, who, despite it all, might have taken advantage of the situation.

"She needs to wake up, soon," Jörmundur said. "Otherwise…"

"Otherwise we'd be in big trouble."

"Indeed. There is no heir to the throne, and I don't see anyone taking over so easily."

"Not even yourself?" Elva had asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Especially not myself."

"Fair enough."

They had been for a while after that, but their silence was suddenly disturbed by a scuffle in the courtyard of the citadel. Soldiers screamed, and people seemed to be running around. Rushing to the window, Jörmundur saw the reason to the commotion at once, as Thorn hovered just above the citadel, with Murtagh on his back.

"Stay here!" he ordered Elva and ran out of the room. He took the grand staircase down three at a time, and rushed past confused personnel in his way to the courtyard. When he finally reached it, he found his soldiers firing upon the Rider, but their arrows did not reach him, his protective charms keeping both him and his dragon safe. "Hold your fire!"

Soldiers looked from Murtagh to Jörmundur as he stepped out and walked to the middle of the courtyard, confused as to what he was doing. This was a man they had known as an enemy, and their first instinct was, of course, to shoot him down.

"Murtagh!" Jörmundur called. "You may come down!"

Amid surprised gasps from the solders, and a flap of wings from Thorn, the dragon slowly alighted on the stone floor, and Murtagh slid down fluidly, making a straight line to Jörmundur. He was serious and decisive in his manner, and Jörmundur had no doubt Murtagh could have taken him down with a flick of his hand. But he meant business, too. And for Nasuada, he was willing to fight even such a powerful Rider.

"Was it you?" Jörmundur asked, pushing Murtagh at the shoulders. "Was it you?"

"No," Murtagh replied, his voice cold. "It was not me. Is she…?"

A look between them made an understanding possible, and Murtagh asked no more, but followed Jörmundur as he walked towards the door. The elder man stopped at the door, and looked at his soldiers:

"Keep an eye on the dragon, but do not harm him unless he causes you to."

"Yes, sir!"

"Thorn will not harm them," Murtagh said, testily.

The rest of the way up to Nasuada's chamber was spent in silence, as Jörmundur did not even turn to look at Murtagh, and Murtagh, in turn, did not speak to him at all. It was only when they were in the ante-chamber, past the guards, that Jörmundur turned to him again.

"She has not awakened since the attack," he said, opening the door and letting him inside.

Elva's eyes widened as she saw him, and was quite surprised when she saw him walking first to her, and not to Nasuada. She kept her eyes on him as he looked her over. She had no fight with him, but she was fairly certain that one of the presences she had felt had belonged to Thorn, so she considered it best to be cautions.

"That's some nasty piece of magic they did on you," he commented. "I'm surprised you did not die."

"What do you mean?" Jörmundur asked.

"The people who attacked Nasuada attacked Elva first. Not directly, but still effectively."

"What did they do to me?" Elva asked, realizing his words made sense.

"As far as I can tell, they tried poisoning you from the inside, but to do that, someone on the inside needed access to you."

"That would have been Trianna," Jörmundur said.

"Yes. I realize I'm partly responsible for her current state, but her mind wasn't hers anymore. She had been slowly consumed."

"By what?"

"A group of magicians from Gil'ead."

"But how…?" Jörmundur was on his feet at once. "I must launch a counter-attack at once."

Murtagh raised his arm to stop him, and as Jörmundur looked at him, he could see that Murtagh meant business, and that launching an attack would be completely unnecessary. Whatever had to be done, Murtagh would do it.

"So, what happened to Nasuada?" the man asked, letting his anger wash away.

"They used Trianna to try and mimic a dragon, fool Nasuada into thinking it was actually Thorn that was touching her mind. They kept at it, discreetly and non-violently, until Nasuada lowered her guard, thinking it was indeed Thorn. Then they attacked for real."

"That's when I felt it," Elva said.

"Yes, and that's when I felt it, too, because Nasuada called out our names with her mind. We recognized that someone was impersonating Thorn, and so he did intervene. His presence was too much for the attacker, and Trianna collapsed. Just before she did, though, I felt the presence of the real attackers. I came as fast as I could, so I could see her."

"Will she be alright?"

"She's not injured, as far as I can feel, and her mind seems to be sound."

So engrossed in the story had Jörmundur and Elva been, that they hardly realized Murtagh had moved closer to the bed, and was caressing Nasuada's cheek softly. The look in his eyes was still decisive, but there was a certain amount of feeling that hadn't been there before.

He looked back at Jörmundur.

"I'll take care of this."

And as quickly as he had appeared, he had vanished, flying on Thorn into the distance.

x-x-x

"And he hasn't been back?" Nasuada asked.

"No. We have not heard from him since. Gil'ead is quite far, too, if you think about it, so I do expect he'll take his time."

"Do you think he'll come back?" There was a longing in her voice that Jörmundur could not mistake.

"I cannot say, my lady."

One of the first things Nasuada did when she finally left her room was to go see Elva. She found the girl sitting on a chair in one of the inner gardens, just looking at the trees, her hair dancing in the afternoon breeze. She turned to look at Nasuada the moment her shadow appeared.

"You are up," she said, then looked at the trees again.

"Yes. I hear you are improving yourself."

"I am. I feel almost normal again."

"I apologize to you, Elva."

"Why?"

"Because of me you were targeted. They probably wanted to get you out of the way, so you couldn't warn me danger was imminent."

"I still could not do it. I arrived too late."

"But you tried."

"In the end, it was him who saved you. If he comes back, make sure you thank him."

"I hope he does," Nasuada said gravely, "so that I can."

But he did not. As the days turned into weeks, there still was no sign of Murtagh. That he had avenged her attack was certain, for three weeks after her attack, a contingency of soldiers entered Iliera escorting a group of five former magicians, whom they claimed had been stripped of their powers by the sudden appearance of a Rider in a red mighty dragon. The magicians had admitted to enslaving Trianna during a routine check up on magicians in Gil'ead a few months earlier, as they remained loyal to Galbatorix, and refused to accept orders from a woman from the Wandering Tribes.

They had fed Trianna information, and through the months she had clouded Nasuada's mind, playing on the fact that she had no life companion. The fact that Nasuada had someone she cared about but could not have had just been plain bad luck for her, and as soon as Trianna had got wind of it, she had given her the mantra that would only depress her further, making her ultimately more vulnerable to the attack.

At least Jörmundur felt at ease with this information, for he had been clearly disturbed by the openly pessimistic attitude Nasuada had taken over the last few months. It explained how she had gone from being a completely independent and strong person, to one who moped about when she thought no one was looking. To Nasuada, though, all this information only reinforced the guilt she felt at having been so foolish.

At least one thing had changed. She accepted the fact that Murtagh had not returned, because, what counted, was that he had come to her aid. He cared for her still, he thought about her in his solitude, and that was encouragement enough for her. Although it tasted bitterly of déjà-vu, she was more accepting of the situation, and returned to doing full time what she was supposed to be doing: ruling Alagaësia fairly.

Epilogue

The night was cold and damp, but Nasuada had left her window open as she went to bed. She had felt suffocated after a long week of conferencing with her fellow rulers. They had all left that afternoon, and while Nasuada had been happy to see Arya, Orik, Nar Garzhvog, and even Orrin, who was still as obnoxious as ever, she was glad to finally get some peace. She was so exhausted, that she fell asleep quickly, welcoming the well deserved rest she had ignored for the past week.

Just how soon the mind games started, she did not know, but one moment she was dreaming of flying sheep, and the next she was making love to Murtagh's unmistakable mind. He was there with her, she could feel him, and while she was now wide awake, she kept her eyes closed, just enjoying the closeness of his mind to hers, of the burning feelings that passed from one to another, of the comfort of being whole again. Who needed rest when there was this? She could have stayed like this…

'Where are you going?' her mind cried desperately as she felt him retreating.

'Open your eyes,' he said. The exact same words he had spoken to her six months earlier.

'Won't you disappear?'

He chuckled. "You tell me."

Her eyes shot open as she heard his voice, and she quickly sat on the bed. Even in the dark, she could discern him sitting at the window, his back against the wall, one leg hanging inside, the other bent with an elbow resting on it.

"Murtagh!"

She ran out of bed at once and met him just as he jumped down from the windowsill, trapping her in his arms. She hugged him strongly, not really believing he was there, but feeling his warmth, his smell, his presence… everything that was him, now in front of her.

"Murtagh!"

"You really should protect your mind better," he said, hugging her back equally strongly.

"You think I would not recognize the real you? I had never felt Thorn before, so I couldn't be sure. But you? My mind could be completely destroyed, and I still would recognize you."

"I suppose that's what I was counting on." She heard the smile in his voice.

"I'm so happy to see you," she said, sighing contentedly.

"I'm happy to see you, too. I apologize, it took me a while."

"What kept you?"

"I suppose I wasn't ready to face the world yet. I only showed up six months ago because you were in danger. Otherwise, I don't think I would have moved from the spot."

"Do you feel ready now?"

"To face the world? Not really, no. But I might start slowly, facing you."

"That sounds about right. Just… where is Thorn?"

"Ah, he's flying overhead, waiting for permission to land. And get fed. He's starving."

"I'm sure I can see to that," she said, looking at him. "A large steak might please him."

"We'll be forever grateful."

Nasuada smiled at him and loosened the embrace. She had not taken two steps towards the door when she felt Murtagh take her by the wrist, spinning her quickly, and holding her against him, pressing his lips against hers.

And the world disappeared. It disappeared because, at that moment, all that mattered was that he was there, with her. Whatever else life threw at them, they'd have this moment together. They'd…

Thorn's mind suddenly invaded theirs, and Murtagh had to chuckle at the strong feelings coming from it. This was a dragon on a mission…

'That steak going to be ready anytime soon?' he asked.

… a mission to be fed.

Laughing, Nasuada went to see to the proper arrangements, and personally made sure that Thorn was looked after, providing him with a large dragon den above her chambers, so he could retire when he wished to. The dragon was indeed grateful, assured her that they had no intention of leaving soon, if she wished them there. She assured him that she did. With that taken care of, she returned to her chambers, only to find Murtagh asleep on her bed.

'He is tired, too,' she thought, and smiled to herself. 'I suppose facing the world will have to wait a little longer.'

Without much ado, she closed the window and lied down next to Murtagh, who curled closer to her in his sleep. How well it felt, to be together, how well it felt to think that, from tomorrow onwards, even if it took some time, they'd be facing the world together.

'No more mind games,' she thought just before sleep claimed her. 'From now on, it's for real.'

Notes:

And that's it! :D I hope this was as enjoyable for you to read as it was for me to write I do believe they have a future ahead of them, and I'm rooting for them! Murtagh has always been one of my favourite characters, and ever since the beginning I had the feeling that they belonged together. When I read the whole 'You know why' part in Inheritance, I was done for. For me, that fulfilled ALL my romantic expectations from the book, as it was so touching and meaningful.

I tried, many years ago, to write other fanfictions with these two, but it never worked until now I suppose I just didn't have enough information to do it.

Thank you so much to all my readers and reviewers. You really helped me develop this story, asking the right questions and inspiring me to find answers. Keep up the good work, keep reading, keep imagining, and, above all, keep enjoying that which you love :D

xx Mikha


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